All friendships are transactional,
which, when realized,
won’t abate the process of grief,
but helps to frame it
like a badly drawn portrait
I’d donate to Goodwill.
Here is what I’ll miss;
your occasional gesture of kindness,
the once-a-decade epiphanies
you shared with me
when your nascent empathy
asserted itself,
and your Mona Lisa smile,
a mark of inner peace.
How does this weigh
against your casual cruelty,
cutting remarks,
and narcissism?
I’ll still love, and worry about you,
but being alone
is better than being
miserable with you.
After the morning rain,
five black crows comb
the parking lot through for snails.
The piercing of shells,
the slick gulp
of each slug
extracted from its armour,
and then slipped
into an avian gullet
are the only sounds I hear,
an atavistic reminder
of the fear that lurks
beneath the thin veneer
of my excuse for living.
Marie C Lecrivain is a poet, publisher, and curator of two literary blogs: Dashboard Horus: A Bird’s Eye of the Universe (travel themed poetry and art), and Al-Khemia Poetica: A Women’s Art and Literary Journal. Her work has been published in California Quarterly, Chiron Review, Four Feathers, Gargoyle, Lothlorien Poetry Journal, Nonbinary Review, Orbis, Pirene's Fountain, and many other journals. She's the author of several books of poetry and fiction, including the upcoming Call Me Pamela: A Poetic Journey Through the Smith-Waite Tarot (2025 Sybaritic Press, www.sybpress.com).
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